


Val'sharah Glee

by Axelex12



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Affairs, Alcohol, Bed Sex, Bedroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Conversations, F/M, First Meetings, Hunters & Hunting, Innuendo, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Loss of Virginity, Lust, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Morning After, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, One Night Stands, One Shot, Post-Coital, Seduction, Taverns, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axelex12/pseuds/Axelex12
Summary: Worgen Hunter First Day in Val'sharah.Night Well Spent in local Inn.
Relationships: Female Night Elf | Elves/Male Worgen (Warcraft)
Kudos: 3





	Val'sharah Glee

The first gainful day of hunting in Val'sharah was winding down for Harold. It had been an educative experience for the Gilnean Worgen, and his appreciation for the natural beauty of had grown immensely. In just a few hours he had collected a respectable stack of saber cat skins, a few dozen pristine hawk downs, and handful of glimmering naga scales to boot. Sure, he may have felt a brush with death a few times, but the trophies he'd bring back with him to the Gilneas would be well worth the risk. The only prey he had left to subdue was the one he coveted the most: a female elf.

Ever since this Worgen had first laid eyes on kal'dorei woman, the desire to mate one had burned in his mind. The women of his species were attractive in their own primal way, but elven women were vain sirens whose magical beauty made them almost impossible to resist. They were, nevertheless, a challenge to seduce. On the whole, some part of elven society still viewed Gilnean Worgens as savages, and would not easily excuse a woman who discarded her dignity for a night of raw passion with a younger race. Just like any creature of the wild, however, his quarry could be overcome with patience and cunning.

Harold emerged from the forest right before dusk, promptly identifying the inn of whatever village he now found himself in. It was a modest establishment by elven standards, but for an cursed Gilnean it might as well have been a palace. There weren't many denizens loitering around by this time of day, so he gave thanks to the Goldrinn that their derisive looks could be avoided. Unfortunately, thanks were given too soon. Just before he crossed the threshold of the building, a small party of Sentries made their departure. They were all men, and it was obvious by their mannerisms that they had been drinking. The Worgen stepped to the side and waited for them to pass, not interested in being a target for their drunken malfeasance. A few of the men glared at him contentiously as they stumbled out, but he managed to stand his ground without as much as hearing a few elvish insults he couldn't understand anyway. It was wise for them to keep walking. Picking a fight with a muscular, seven-foot Worgen wouldn't have ended well, even with their advantage in numbers.

The interior of the establishment was dimly lit and smelled of liquor. To his surprise, it was barren of customers. Judging by the mess they had left behind, he had entered just after the bar's busiest hour. He studied the room as he sauntered inside, then came to a sudden stop. His attention settled on the only other person still occupying the building: the innkeeper. Standing behind the bar counter was an immaculate specimen of night elven womanhood. Her eyes were mischievous golden flares, but her smile was perfectly innocent. Moon white hair framed her blue leaf-tattooed angelic face, straight and cascading to her lower back. She wore a tight-fitting bodice over a lacy blouse that left little to the imagination. Even from across the room, he could appreciate the cleavage of her capacious breasts. She had already noticed him before he had noticed her, smiling winsomely at him while she wiped a glass with a towel. Not one to shy away from a woman's invitation, he swaggered over to the counter and leaned upon it.

"Good evening," she greeted.

"Evenin'," Harold replied.

"It's not often we see Gilnean Worgen here."

"I can tell."

"What's your name?"

"Harold Stark. You?"

"Verande Starshine."

"Pretty name."

"Thanks. I like yours, too. The bar's closed, but I can still pour one last drink for you."

"That would be nice. Have any alcohol drink?"

"Sure!"

Verande put down the glass and turned around, bending over to retrieve a bottle of Moonglow [Kaldorei Alcoholic beverage] from the cabinet. Harold could tell the woman worked for her tips because the manner in which she presented her ass was telling of someone who knew how to flaunt their assets. He could make our the exquisite shape of her bulbous derriere underneath her thin skirt, and by the time she turned back around to pour his glass, he was already imagining all the ways he would destroy it.

"What brings you to Val'sharah?" she inquired.

"Hunting."

"How do you like it?"

"I was havin' fun so far."

Harold took a drink of Moonglow, savoring the taste as he admired the night elven woman's features. Among other voguish accessories she adorned herself with, he was particularly fond of her collar. It coiled tightly around her neck, suggestive of her preference for treatment in the bedroom.

"You like workin' here?" he pried.

Verande shrugged. "It's not so bad. I make some decent coin."

"What do you like to spend coin on?"

"Dresses, shoes, jewelry... sometimes gifts for my friends."

"You have any family?"

"My father is a druid, my mother is a priestess, and my fiance is a warrior."

Harold mentally cringed at the mention of a fiance, but her relationship status would do little to dissuade him from having her. He took another swig of Moonglow.

"Yo are gettin' married?"

"Soon." Verande seemed eager to change the subject. "What about you? Any family back home?"

"None that death hasn't claimed."

"Oh... not even a girlfriend?" she prodded with thinly-veiled optimism in her tone.

"Nah."

"Well... I find it hard to believe an accomplished hunter such as yourself has any problem with the ladies."

The compliment motivated Harold to leer at her hungrily, making her blush. "So, you're from Gilneas?" she retreated.

"Ya."

"What's it like living on an peninsula?"

"Simple."

Verande rested her face on her hands as she leaned over, beaming with intrigue. "I've always wanted to visit. I love beaches."

Harold grinned. "Come back wit me. I'll show ya everyting dere is to see."

Verande sighed and turned around again to put away the bottle. "Oh... I can't just walk out of here, though. I have a job."

Harold licked his lips, still distracted by the woman's voluptuous body.

"Are you renting a room?" she asked.

"If you have any."

"You're the only guest right now, actually. Do you have thirty-five silver?"

Harold rifled through his pack for the innkeeper's fee plus a tip, then pushed the coins across the counter. Verande smiled as she collected them, exchanging them for a room key. "That will do it" she thanked. "You're welcome to stay down here as long as you'd like. When you're ready, your room will be upstairs and to the right. Goodnight!" Rather abruptly, she then picked up a stack of dishes and began to make her way to the second floor.

"By Greymane's beard," Harold remarked under his breath. The Kaldorei woman was definitely in heat, and as far as he could tell they were alone. Nothing was standing in the way of him having her. He couldn't care less if she was claimed by another man. After taking a few minutes to finish his Moonglow, he began marching upstairs, bypassing his room on his way to the kitchen. Just around the corner, there she stood, washing the dishes over a sink. This was the perfect opportunity to make a move. He hastily stripped out of his hunting garb before walking inside. Favoring a more aggressive approach, he prowled right up behind her, firmly clamping his hands on her hips as he pressed his naked self up against her posterior.

With a frightened gasp, Verande dropped the plate she was holding and tensed up. "What are you doing!?" she exclaimed, glimpsing over her shoulder.

"Relax," Harold soothed.

"You can't be back here..." she scolded, squirming in his embrace. In spite of her objections, the Worgen's dominant hand found its way under her skirt and between her legs. Her light purple skin was much softer than he imagined, stoking his lust.

"I know you want this," Harold insisted.

"I can't be doing this," she demurred. "I have a fiance—"

"Don't think about him."

As Harold began to massage Verande's groin his middle finger, her resistance quickly thawed. Fervent breathes escaped from her lips as she leaned back against him, gripping the edge of the sink for stability. Her yearning, half-lidded eyes would have given away her true feelings if she was not facing the opposite way, but he didn't need to see her face to know his handiwork was appreciated. It wasn't long before he could feel precipitation on her crevice, encouraging him to follow through. Soon it would become more difficult for her to stifle her euphoric outbursts.

Before long, it was time for Verande to reciprocate Harold's service. She wrested from his hold to turn around, then locked eyes with her lover as she sank to her knees. It was impossible for her to disguise her astonishment when she first saw the Worgen's massive shaft hanging inches away from her delicate head. Her expression alone made it obvious that she had never seen a cock as large as his, let alone ingested one. Nevertheless, she swallowed her trepidation and grasped the base of his mast with her dainty fingers. Her submissive gaze returned to his eyes after assessing his length, and with timid resolve, she began to stroke his erection.

Apparently, not much effort was needed to turn Verande to infidelity. Perhaps night elven women weren't as dignified as their reputation would suggest. In any case, Harold led her a step further along the path of immorality as he reached out and clasped her head by her hair, pulling her mouth to his knotted cock. Her glossy lips parted to receive the package inch by inch until her capacity was reached, all while maintaining eye contact. As her head was tugged back, her tongue slathered the Worgen's appendage with amorous saliva, making it smoother to take for the duration of her labor. Over the next few minutes, her head bobbed up and down her partner's cock at an enthusiastic tempo, erasing any remaining notion of her innocence.

Surprised by her talent, Harold was convinced Verande had some experience fellating men. She seemed to be enjoying her duty, even going as far as touching herself while she worked. He reveled in his triumph, indulging the view of the kaldorei woman fawning at his feet. He was eager to see her out of her clothes but reluctant to interrupt her impressive performance. After all, he had all night to ravish her buxom body. There was no need to rush things. She could keep the initiative a little while longer while he relished the sensation of her warm mouth on his manhood.

Inevitably, the moment arrived when Harold was ready to move on to the main course of his erotic feast. Without warning, he plucked Verande from the ground and hoisted her over his left shoulder, making her squeal with nervous excitement. She was as light as a feather for the sinewy hunter, allowing him to transport her without a hitch. The stack of dirty dishes would remain unwashed as the dalliance began migrating from the kitchen to the bedroom.

"Wait, I have to close the inn," she distressed, suddenly recognizing the peril of being caught fornicating with a Worgen.

"Nobody's gonna see you," he responded, bending down to collect the room key from the pile of his belongings left scattered on the floor.

"Someone could walk in!" she panicked.

"They can wait."

The key to Harold's room turned to unlock, allowing him to kick the door open and carry Verande inside. The circular bed in the middle of the room was made of soft fabric and was bathed in the intimate glow of arcane candles. He briskly set her upon it, then immediately began the exhilarating process of undressing her.

"I've never done this before," she fretted.

"You never made love before?" he said doubtfully.

"Not with a Worgen !"

"Then you will be in for a treat."

Harold removed Verande's skirt and cast it aside. Underneath the gossamer fabric, she wore suede thigh-high boots and small frilly panties that were damp from foreplay. He selected the latter garment to be taken off next, sliding them down her supple thighs and over her fashionable footwear. She shuddered as her lower half was exposed, her heart racing with anticipation.

"Are you going to be rough?" she asked warily.

Harold ignored her, focusing instead on liberating her ponderous chest from her bodice. Once her top was off completely, he could finally appreciate the shape of her curvaceous nude body sprawled before him. She blinked at him gingerly as he gaped, powerless to do anything but wait to receive his hardy gift. He pried her legs apart by her ankles, granting him unhindered access to her vulnerable slit. She bit her bottom lip, bracing for the inescapable wave of excruciating pleasure that would wrack her body when he buried his blue monster inside her.

Harold's spear penetrated Verande's hymen, consummating his triumph over her inhibitions. The strain of his girth made her writhe and moan, only serving to inflate his masculine ego. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head while she struggled to cope with the initial discomfort. As he pushed further into her orifice, her back arched to accommodate his imposing length. She was a tight fit, but nature was forgiving. Now that he was anchored in, he was free to explore her intestines at an exuberant speed. He knew her hole would never be the same after this. If not for the thrill of debauchery, he may have even felt a tinge of guilt knowing her fiance would no longer satisfy her in the same way he did.

Verande's hyperventilation was music to Harold's ears. He always suspected night elves were just as sexual as his people were, and was elated to discover he was right. Thrust after thrust he extracted bliss from her fertile wellspring, indifferent to the toll it had on her stamina. Occasionally she made utterances in elvish which he could only assume was praise for his physical prowess. At one point during intercourse, he remembered her collar, prompting him to enclose his fingers around her throat. It was not long after this dominant maneuver that he felt her body convulse from an orgasm, cueing him to get off in turn. He hastened the onset, shifting his grip from her neck to her abdomen for a strong finish. As he prepared to unload inside her, she pouted at him with flushed cheeks, giving him all the incentive he needed to reach his climax. When his erection started to throb she instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso and clutched the bed at her sides.

At last, the session reached a crux as Harold began to ejaculate. The pressure finally discharged from his loins, bursting into Verande's womb and inundating it with his potent seed. He let out a definitive sigh as he came, a sound muddled by his partner's spastic whimpering. It took a few seconds for him to empty his sack, and when his knot finished palpitating he deliberately pulled it out. In the moments following the event, she closed her eyes and simpered, still oblivious to the consequences of her illicit affair.

This would have been the conclusion of the fling if it had been any other man, but not for Harold. Little did Verande know that the Worgen had been blessed by a Harvest Witch to regenerate sperm faster than she could catch her breath. Her trance was broken when she felt his weight on the bed, realizing all too late that he was just positioning himself for the second round.

"Wait, aren't you done?" she rasped.

"Just gettin' started, darlin'," he answered.

"I don't think we should keep doing this. I still have to— mmph!"

Verande could not even finish her protest before Harold flipped her over. He then grabbed her hips, lifting her ass to be level with his pelvis. Fueled by adrenaline, she pushed her upper half up by her arms and peered back at him, bewildered by his seemingly endless reserve of mojo. Before she knew it, she was being railed from behind with reckless abandon. Once again, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as her organs were abused by her insatiable guest. Her body rocked in sync with his bucking hips, enduring his onslaught as well as she could until his next steamy delivery.

This rakish cycle lasted well into the night until the cumspattered innkeeper lay unconscious beneath Harold's enervated cock. He had lost track of time while exhausting her but ventured to guess it was far past midnight. Feeling sated, he moved her over slightly to make room for himself. He drifted off right away, grateful to Wolf Ancient for guiding him to this prize. That night he slept better than he had in many years.

The next morning, Harold woke to find Verande still sleeping soundly beside him. As much as he fancied having another go with her, he determined it was better that he wasn't around when she started to feel remorse for her sins. He quietly slipped off the bed without waking her, then returned to the hallway to retrieve his belongings. After getting dressed, he slunk downstairs to be confronted by a man waiting at the bar. He looked a bit distressed as he saw the gigantic lupine humanoid, but accosted him all the same.

"Excuse me, have you seen Verande?" he questioned.

"Who?" Harold replied.

"The innkeeper."

"Oh, yes. She hardly will be gettin' a wink o' sleep. Workin' all night, that one."

Befuddled by his response, the man fell silent as Harold exit the building. The sun greeted him as he stepped outside, bringing a smile to his face. It was a beautiful day to continue gallivanting. Having now tasted the sweet nectar of night elven woman, he had developed a new appetite for their kind. Perhaps, Goldrinn willing, he would encounter another damsel to conquer before returning home.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos.


End file.
